he saved my life (I never asked him to)
by Someone aka Me
Summary: The first words a person says to you about your soulmate are written across your skin. Bruce is covered in insults. He never wants to meet his soulmate. But then he does.


For Emma, for GGE 2017. Sorry it's late!

Word count: 10,486

.

Bruce spends a long time hoping never to meet his soulmate.

The first mark that blooms is across his right pectoral. He is seven. "How have you never heard of him? He's a rich asshole carried by daddy's money, but he might also be one of the few who could rival you in brains, Banner."

He hides it as long as he can, until his father finds it and digs his nails into the word _him_ over and over again, until the mark can't even rewrite itself over the scar tissue.

It looks like Bruce is ashamed. He isn't. He is afraid.

The second mark blooms across his stomach a month later. "He could do so much more if he thought with his brain instead. And maybe laid off on trying to kill his liver before age twenty."

His father mars any male pronouns. Bruce himself carves scars over the rest of it, trying to scrape away the fate the universe has given him. He will not be his mother.

His mother reminds him that people can be wrong, that the marks are impressions about his soulmate from other people.

Then, "I've met him. He's exactly that much of an asshole in person," curls itself down Bruce's calf, and he wonders how many people can be wrong.

The sixteenth iteration of how his soulmate is an entirely unpleasant person spills down his spine the day Bruce's father murders his mother because she dared to stand up for their freak son with the asshole soulmate he obviously deserves.

Bruce spends a month in silent, cringing terror and mute fury until his father brags about the murder to his drinking buddies and the psychiatrists take him away. The day after he is placed with his Aunt, the words, "Didn't you hear? It was all over the news. Both of his parents died last week. Car crash. He's inherited the whole company. God only knows what he'll do with it," write themselves in circles around his left biceps.

Bruce feels the first twist of sympathy for this man he's been linked to. It is not enough to make him want to meet the man.

And for a long time, no new marks grow. They trace all over his pale skin already, so many of them that Bruce knows his soulmate is someone the world knows. But he doesn't hear the first one said aloud until he goes to college.

It's there that he learns his soulmate is Anthony "Tony" Stark, son of the famous ironmonger Howard Stark. He's a few years younger than Bruce, studying at MIT. Engineering. He looks set to follow in his father's footsteps.

Bruce hates him immediately. Tony Stark is everything Bruce feared he would be, and maybe that's not fair to him, but life has been _not fair_ to Bruce enough times by now that he feels like he's entitled.

Bruce stops researching. He doesn't need more of his Marks confirmed as truth. Not when "a man whore" has just scrawled itself across the knuckles on his right hand.

What does it say about him that _this_ is the man the universe thinks will complete him?

He lets himself fall in love with Betty as a way of forgetting, but he can't miss the look of pity in her eyes every time Bruce takes his shirt off.

Then Bruce's world implodes.

.

For a long time, Tony doesn't get any marks. It might mean he doesn't have a soulmate. It might mean he isn't who his soulmate needs, yet. It might mean his soulmate isn't yet who he needs.

Or maybe it's just the universe trying to tell him he isn't ready to know.

Whatever it is, Tony doesn't really give a damn. He goes to college thoroughly unattached and it's _brilliant_. Sex, drugs, rock and roll. Whatever. Tony embraces the hedonistic life made possible by his father's money and his own utter lack of concern.

He's twenty seven when the words, "They've been chasing him a long time," curl themselves around his tanned wrist. That is so vague. Thanks _so_ much, universe.

The next mark is less vague but makes Tony more angry. "He's a monster. He deserves to be put down." It paints its way down the back of his calf and Tony is surprised at how indignant he is about the insult to a man he's never even met before.

Three weeks later, the sentence, "Sir, it appears that most of the files on Doctor are sealed." No name after the title, just a little hazy patch. Because of course, life can't be that easy. Names rarely appear in soulmarks.

His soulmate is an alleged monster who's been chased for a long time, and has sealed files. Tony calculates the chances that his soulmate is a mutant, but in the end it doesn't matter. He won't know until he hears one of the phrases aloud.

.

Bruce hasn't had a new mark since before college. Until he turns forty four.

He's deep in the slums of Kathmandu, picking up fragmented phrases of Nepali and Nepal Bhasa despite knowing he'll never stay long enough to speak either language fluently.

"He saved my life," has curled itself around his right biceps sometime since his last chance to bathe.

It's the first positive mark Bruce has ever gotten. For the first time in years, Bruce wants to cry. Instead, he leaves the slums and makes his way into more presentable areas, nicking a clean shirt off someone's line and leaving a handful of rupees in its place. The shirt means he can blend in enough to stop the stares, when combined with his deep tan and dirt-darkened skin. He pulls the wrists of his gloves down unconsciously, hiding the English scrawled across his hands. Sure, it's obvious the moment he opens his mouth, but he doesn't need to make himself even _more_ noticeable _._ Gloves are always one of the first thing he grabs after changing back. Those, and _pants._

He buys a bright red permanent marker and a bus ticket to Northern India, mostly because he actually speaks Punjabi, so maybe he can find a newspaper he can actually read.

During the ride, he rolls his right sleeve up. He takes the marker carefully in his left hand and, despite the bumpy road, manages to carefully trace around the letters, highlighting his new mark. It's sentimental and impractical, but maybe Bruce is allowed this small impracticality. Even if it is only likely to hurt him in the end.

Bruce can't help himself. He never means to start hoping again.

Right outside the bus station is a small café where he can exchange a few rupees for shitty internet access. This seems a better plan than a newspaper. The minute he puts the name Stark into a search engine, the results number in the millions.

 _TONY STARK : I AM IRON MAN_

 _STARK INDUSTRIES PULLS OUT OF WEAPON MANUFACTURING_

 _CEO OF STARK INDUSTRIES GONE MAD?_

 _STARK INDUSTRIES CEO RETURNS FROM AFGHANI DESERT_

 _STARK CEO WITH POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER?_

Bruce isn't sure what any of that is supposed to mean for him. Maybe in the long term, it will matter, but it doesn't make any difference. He'll pick up odd jobs and establish himself as a doctor somewhere in India — Kolkata this time, maybe. He speaks enough Hindi to converse and he can pick up Bengali as he goes.

.

Tony's first mark is uttered by Director Fury of SHIELD. It's in the middle of two other sentences, and Tony hasn't thought about it in so long it almost slips past him.

"We need you to talk to the military about a man," Fury says. "They've been chasing him a long time. It's your job to persuade them to… take a step back."

Tony blinks. Then he raises an eyebrow. "You want me going head to head with the military over one man? Someone have a crush?"

Fury ignores this, handing Tony a file. Tony looks at it blankly until Fury scowls and tosses it on the counter beside them. Smirking slightly, Tony picks it up. General Thaddeus E Ross.

"Is this the man or the military?" he asks, flipping through the pages.

"That's the man you need to talk to about stepping back. General Ross. This," he says as he tosses a second, much smaller file on the counter as well, "is the man he needs to back away from."

Tony flips that file open on top of the other. Dr. Robert Bruce Banner, nuclear physicist. The file is obviously not everything they have on the man, which immediately puts Tony's hackles up, but he skims it anyway.

 _Test subject for the super soldier serum. Military attempts to recreate effects. Blood extremely saturated with gamma radiation._ The picture is a scowling undergraduate student, and for a moment Tony wonders, until he checks the date of birth at the top of the file. 1967. Three years older than Tony himself.

"Why does the military want him so badly?"

Fury meets his eye. "They want his blood. And they want what he can do."

"And what can he do?"

"That's classified."

Tony glances down at the file in his hands, then tosses it out the counter. "Let me get this straight. You want me to tell General Thaddeus _Thunderbolt_ Ross, and yes, of course I know who that is; he's ruthless and well known for it — you want me to tell Thunderbolt Ross to fuck off and leave your pet scientist alone?"

"Dr. Banner has never worked for SHIELD."

"But you want him to." Tony amends the story in his head. They don't want Ross to leave _their_ pet scientist alone. They want him to leave his _own_ pet scientist alone.

"Call it a vested interest in Dr. Banner's mental health."

"Call it whatever you like. Why me?"

"You're… persuasive."

"Finally acknowledging my talents, are we?" Tony isn't actually sure why he's being contrary other than the fact that it's his default setting. He wants to do this. If he can help his soulmate, he will do this.

.

General Ross is exactly as much of a scumbag as Tony expects him to be. The only good thing that comes of the meeting is that Tony finds out that Dr. Banner prefers to be called Bruce.

As the words, "He's a monster. He deserves to be put down," fall out of the General's mouth, Tony wishes he were here for more than just words. He wishes he had his suit.

Ross has been hunting Bruce for _decades_ , he says, and Tony wants to tear him apart because it doesn't seem to matter that he's never met the man — Bruce is _his_. And nobody touches his stuff.

He puts the full force of all that he is into his gaze — genius, world-renowned billionaire, _Iron Man_ — and it stops mattering that Ross is taller than him (most people are), or that Ross has the might of the military behind him. Tony may only be one man, but he is one very powerful man, and he is very, very angry.

"Know this," Tony says, and his voice is hard as vibranium. "If you touch him, if you so much as _move toward him_ , you go through me."

"And why does a _hero_ ," Ross spits the word out reluctantly, "want to protect a _monster?_ "

General Ross does not get to be the first one to know that Bruce is Tony's soulmate. He isn't worth that. "SHIELD has an interest," Tony says offhandedly, inspecting his nails and making a great show at looking disinterested.

"And you work as SHIELD's attack dog now, do you?"

Tony laughs. "In this case our interests happened to align," he says. "I mean, really, can you blame me? I just want to pick apart his brain and see how it _works_ ; the man might actually be smarter than me." He winces as though this pains him to acknowledge. "Haven't you heard? Smart is the new sexy." Tony winks at him. "And I can't really stop the man for a chat when you're chasing him around the globe." Maybe it's showing too much of his hand, but it's enough of the truth to make it feel real — to tie Banner to him so that they know that he means it. They have to go through him to get to Banner.

He rather doubts they'll try.

.

When Tony gets back to Malibu, he flops gracelessly on the couch. His mind is whirling.

"JARVIS, give me everything you've got on a Doctor Bruce Banner."

"Sir, it appears that most of the files on Doctor Banner are sealed." Tony blinks and glances down at his wrist, where the same words are imprinted.

Well, _that's_ certainly an interesting philosophical question.

.

"Iridium," Bruce says, trying to focus the others. "What do they need the iridium for?"

And there he is. "Stabilizing agent." Tony Stark is so much more forceful a presence in person. Without thinking, without moving his gaze from the man, Bruce grabs his sleeves and pulls them down his arms, covering half his visible Marks. It's not enough - too many condemnations are still visible, but it's all the protection Bruce can manage right now. He wishes he hadn't left his gloves by a bedside in Kolkata.

As Bruce stares, Tony keeps talking to the SHIELD agent at his side. Then he turns back, but he doesn't look at Bruce. He's still sauntering forward. "Means the portal won't collapse on itself like it did at SHIELD." He pats Thor on the shoulder, though Thor looks immensely unimpressed. "No hard feelings, Point Break. You've got a mean swing. Also, it means the portal can open as wide and stay open as long as Loki wants." He surveys the SHIELD agents on the bridge. Bruce can't take his eyes off him.

As Tony rambles about Galaga and Fury's eyes, he places a small bead on the console. Hacking, Bruce assumes. He reluctantly approves.

Tony isn't looking at him, hasn't looked at him, and it's too coincidental to be an accident. Then Tony finally lets his gaze settle on Bruce. "Am I the only one who did the reading?" he asks, and Bruce knows that Tony knows he isn't. Tony's gaze is heavy and intense and demanding. Bruce ducks away, looking at his hands.

Steve asks about the power source and Bruce answers without thinking. "He'd have to heat the cube to 120 million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier."

"Unless," and now Tony has eyes only for Bruce. There is the smallest twitch of a smirk at his lips. "Selvig has figured out a way to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect."

Bruce can't help biting back, not when Tony has set him up so blatantly. "Well, if he could do _that,_ he could achieve heavy ion fusion at any reactor on the planet."

Tony actually beams. "Finally," he says, and the pure relief in his voice makes Bruce want to turn away, to tell Tony Stark that Bruce is not what he expects, not what he wants, that Bruce is not staying. "Someone who speaks English."

"Is that what just happened?" Cap asks, but neither of them are paying attention.

Tony moves around the table toward Bruce. His eyes are shining. And Bruce, dammit, Bruce doesn't want to like him but Tony is smart and _funny_ — subtly funny, in addition to his well-known obnoxious humor. So when Tony reaches out his hand to shake, Bruce takes it. Maybe they can be… acquaintances, even if Bruce refuses anything else.

He doesn't want to be his mother. He _won't_.

"It's good to meet you, Dr. Banner," Tony says, and it's the first thing he's said that isn't shaded in a veneer of shiny, polished arrogance. His voice is softer, more personal. "Your work on anti-electron collisions is… _unparalleled_. And I'm a huge fan of the way you turn into an enormous green rage monster."

Tony is a scientist and a public figure. He chooses his words with precision. He means so much more than he says.

And he complimented _Bruce_ first. Then the other guy. Bruce ducks his head, looks away.

"Thanks," he says, uncertain but sincere.

Just as Tony looks like he might speak again, Fury walks and and tells him that Bruce is only here to _track_ the cube and suddenly Tony is grinning at him with brilliant, lit up eyes and saying, "Shall we play, Doctor?" and what is Bruce supposed to say to that?

"Let's play some."

.

Tony in the lab is, if anything, even more of a whirlwind than Tony in general, and this is something that Bruce understands. There's something about the intuitive comfort of a lab — Bruce relaxes in a way that he never does anywhere else. Without thinking about it, as he moves toward the gamma radiation scanner, he rolls up his sleeves. He glances back at Tony to ask if he's ready, but Tony is frozen, eyes locked on Bruce's arms.

He'd kept his left hand hidden and turned his knuckles out during the handshake on the bridge, but now his marks are out for Tony to see.

The phrase _a man whore_ is written in the bumps of his right knuckles.

 _He only won because of his father, and everyone knows it_ crosses the back of his left hand.

Down the inside of his right arm are the words, _He's an ass._

Around his left wrist curls, _God, I hate him._

In the crook of his left elbow it reads, _His family is responsible for everything that is wrong in this country._

Tony takes them in for a moment, then turns away, facing the computer.

"Tony," Bruce says carefully, but Tony just shakes his head. His posture is far too casual to be the truth.

"It's fine, Bruce," he says. The control in his voice is admirable. "I know what people say about me."

Maybe his Marks make him angry, but they make Tony _sad_ , and somehow that's worse. Tony looks shattered, and Bruce doesn't want to do this here, doesn't want to do this now, but can't let that look stay.

"Tony, look at me," he says as he untucks his shirt.

Because maybe it was a stupid thing to prioritize, but no matter where he woke up and no matter how broke he got, he always made a point to pick up a colored permanent marker and outline his three favorite marks.

 _He's a hero_ curls down his left shin, framed in red.

 _He saved my life_ arcs around his right biceps, making Bruce glad he's ambidextrous with a pen.

 _He's a goddamned genius, and I think he might just save the world_ crosses his stomach, right underneath the mess of scars that was his second mark.

The last is the one he shows Tony for now, careful not to expose the knot of scar tissue above it because that is a conversation Bruce will never be ready for.

"They aren't all like that," he says softly.

Tony's posture seems to uncrumple in stages as he sees the red and reads the words. He moves forward, hand outstretching as though of its own volition. He snatches it back when he realizes, but Bruce shakes his head.

"You can, if you want." It doesn't mean anything. Bruce won't let it mean anything.

Tony meets his eyes, then steps forward again, reaching out more deliberately this time. His fingers are rough, tipped with callous and burn scars. His skin is cool against Bruce's - everyone who isn't irradiated is cool compared to Bruce.

"I'm sorry," Tony says as he pulls his hand back. He turns away.

"For what?"

"That you got stuck with me. For a soulmate."

Bruce blinks. He's only now realizing exactly how much of Tony's persona is just that - a persona, a mask. Like this, Tony looks so _fragile_. His shoulders are curled up near his ears. He looks so _small_. Bruce had never realized that Tony is no taller than he is, at least when Bruce is normally colored.

"Tony," Bruce says, soft and sadder than he means it to be. Tony braces his hands on the counter, but the bracing only makes his shoulders hunch further up.

He is so much more vulnerable than Bruce ever thought he would be.

"Tony," he says again. "We can't do this right now." Bruce is not prepared to deal with the reality of this. And they really _do_ need to find the Tesseract.

It's like watching Tony become someone else entirely. He shakes himself and the cocky tilt comes back to his head. His shoulders go back. He radiates arrogance. He turns to his machines.

Bruce, taking that for the subject change that it is, picks up a scanner and starts scanning the staff. "The gamma readings are definitely consistent with Selvig's reports on the Tesseract. But it's gonna take weeks to process."

Tony has retreated to the other side of the room. "If we bypass their mainframe and direct a reroute to the Homer cluster, we can clock this around 600 teraflops."

Bruce grins easily. "All I packed was a toothbrush."

Tony grins back at him. "You know," he says, glancing back at his screen, "you should come by Stark Tower some time." He is resolutely not looking at Bruce, knowing this is treading the line of what they've just agreed to ignore. "Top 10 floors, all R&D. You'd love it. It's Candyland."

Bruce grimaces. He already likes Tony more than he ever expected he would, but that doesn't mean he plans to stay. Bruce doesn't know _how_ to stay. "Thanks, but the last time I was in New York, I kind of broke… Harlem," he says, deflecting only a little.

Something in Tony's face closes off at that, like he didn't expect Bruce to say no.

The fake grin is back, and Bruce is already starting to hate it. "Well, I promise a stress free environment. No tension. No surprises." Tony sidles behind him, and then suddenly Bruce feels a flare of pain from his abdomen.

"Ow!" He shoots a look at Tony, because the man just _prodded_ him.

"Nothing?" Tony asks glibly. Bruce wonders if he has a death wish. But the look in Tony's eyes… Bruce doesn't think he has a death wish. He thinks Tony just _isn't afraid_.

Everyone is afraid. Even when they say they aren't. Often _especially_ when they say they aren't. Even Betty, who loved him, feared what he was capable of — and for good reason; he nearly killed her. _Bruce_ is afraid of the other guy. But Tony doesn't seem to be.

"Hey! Are you nuts?" Captain Rogers calls, and Bruce turns to him and there, _there_ is the fear he was looking about. From Rogers, who said outright that he didn't care about the other guy.

Tony hasn't even turned to face Rogers. "You really have got a lid on it, haven't you?" he says to Bruce. "What's your secret? Mellow jazz? Bongo drums? Huge bag of weed?" His posture is completely, impossibly relaxed.

"Is everything a joke to you?" Rogers asks scornfully.

"Funny things are." Tony smirks and the malice in it isn't even subtle. It's a smirk and a reminder that, while Cap may be their SHIELD-nominated leader, that doesn't make Tony a follower. It's a reminder that Tony is in his own time, that Cap is the one at a disadvantage here. It's sharp and dangerous and Bruce thinks at least part of the sharpness is because of him.

"Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship isn't funny," Steve says in reply. He doesn't seem to notice the danger in Tony's expression.

"He is _not_ a monster," Tony snaps, eyes blazing with such fury that Steve actually takes a step back.

"I didn't say he was."

"You implied it. And you're wrong. Dr. Bruce Banner is a goddamned genius who has done more for this world than you and your spangly outfit ever could, okay?" He turns to Bruce. "The portable water filter? I'm getting you the patent for that. We can make sure it gets to the people who need it."

And Bruce blinks rapidly at him because _how the hell does Tony know about that?_

Tony grins like he knows exactly what Bruce is thinking. "I keep my eye on clean energy advancements," Tony says. "And that area of Nepal was nowhere _near_ putting out that kind of tech without help. If I hadn't seen your work from before, there's no way I would've guessed it was you."

"You… you read my work?"

Tony looks almost concerned, unsure, but it's deeply hidden beneath a cocky grin. "Anything with your name anywhere on it."

"Even the one about…"

"The theoretical possibility of warp engine technology?" Bruce groans and hides his head in his hands. That paper is _mortifying_ ; he has no idea how it got published anywhere.

Tony's grin spreads. "I especially enjoyed the bit about warp classification with direct reference to Lieutenant Scott."

Bruce just groans into his hands again. He's pretty sure he must be bright red by this point. "Oh, God," he mumbles.

"You're tiptoeing, big guy," Tony says breezily. "What you've got to do is _strut_."

Rogers butts in at this point. "And _you_ need to focus on the problem, Mr. Stark."

Tony finally turns back to him. "You think I'm not? Why did Fury call us in? Why now? What isn't he telling us? Can't solve the equation if I don't have all the variables."

"You think Fury's hiding something?"

Tony looks at him disparagingly. Bruce can tell there's something behind it, something more to Tony's disdain for Steve Rogers than just what Bruce has seen. But now is not the time for that, either. "He's a spy. Captain, he's _the_ spy. His secrets have secrets." He gestures to Bruce. "It's bugging him, too, isn't it?"

Bruce wasn't expecting the attention to be drawn to him like this. "I, uh, I just want to finish my work…" But then he looks up and he sees the plea on Tony's face, the way Tony is begging Bruce to back him up and Bruce just… caves. He sighs. "A warm light for all mankind. Loki's jab at Fury about the cube."

"I heard it," Steve says.

Bruce jerks his head at Tony. "I think it was meant for you." He's talking to Tony alone now, and he wonders if all soulmates feel this sort of draw to each other or if it's just… them. "Even if Barton hadn't told him, it's been all over the news."

"The Stark Tower?" Steve asks, his eyes narrowed slightly. "That big ugly building in New York?"

Tony glares at Cap. Bruce cuts between them without thinking. "It's powered by Stark Reactors. Self-sustaining energy source. That building will run itself for what, a year?" He aims this last part at Tony.

Tony nods. "That's just the prototype." He shrugs as though it's nothing. "I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now."

Bruce shrugs, gesturing to Tony. "So why didn't SHIELD bring him in on the Tesseract project? I mean, what are they doing in the clean energy business in the first place?"

Tony smiles, but it's somewhat grim. "I should probably look into that once my decryption program finishes breaking into all of SHIELD's secure files."

And Bruce can tell by Steve's face that this conversation is just going to end in more bickering, so instead of trying to mediate those who won't be mediated, he just puts his head down, calculating variables and testing tracking equations, trying to refine existing algorithms.

No matter how little attention he's paying, he notices when Tony holds out a bag of blueberries like it's an offering.

"Blueberry?" Bruce looks at him wryly, but takes a few from the silver package as Steve says something else disparaging. They look set to bicker for hours, so Bruce finally cuts in.

"Steve, tell me none of this smells a little funky to you?"

Steve hesitates for only a moment, before saying, "Just find the cube," and stalking off.

"That's the guy my dad never shut up about? Wondering if they shouldn't have kept him on ice," Tony remarks after the door slides shut behind Steve.

Bruce looks at him, wondering if that comment means more than the flippancy it seems to convey.

"Guy's not wrong about Loki," Bruce says, deliberately casual. "He does have the jump on us."

Tony half smirks. "What he's got is an ACME dynamite kit. It's going to blow up in his face, and I'm going to be there when it does."

Bruce looks at him and tilts his head, wry. "And I'll read all about it."

"Or you'll be suiting up like the rest of us."

And that… isn't exactly how it goes. Not for Bruce. "See," he says, carefully honest, still trying to be open minded about all of this, "I don't get a suit of armor. I'm exposed, like a nerve. It's a nightmare."

Tony steps away from the screen he's been working at and toward Bruce. "You know, I've got a cluster of shrapnel, trying every second to crawl its way into my heart." He taps his shirt over the glowing light of the arc reactor. "This? Stops it. This little circle of light. It's a part of me now, not just armor. It's a… terrible privilege."

Bruce looks at him, evaluative. "But you can control it."

"Because I learned how."

Bruce shakes his head. "It's different." He tries to go back to his data set, but Tony flicks it aside with a finger, staring at him through the transparent screen.

"I've read all about your accident," he says, and this is not even a little surprising to Bruce. Of course he wanted to know about the moment his soulmate became a monster. That is, apparently, not where Tony is going with this particular conversation, though. "That much gamma exposure? Should have killed you."

"So you're saying that the Hulk… the, other guy… saved my life? That's nice. It's a nice sentiment." Delusional, maybe, but nice. "Saved it for what?"

Tony shrugs one shoulder. "I guess we'll find out." He finally lets Bruce maximize his screen again, moving back to where he was inputting formulas.

"You might not like that," Bruce warns.

"You just might," Tony disagrees, because apparently Tony is going to disagree with everything. This is possibly the least surprising thing Bruce has learned about Tony Stark so far.

And they'll talk about whatever they are and whatever they're supposed to be later, because right now they have an otherworldly energy source to find.

Except that by the time the tracker has pinned down the tesseract, Steve and Tony look like they're about to come to blows, Bruce has revealed the lowest moment in his life to the entire team and watched the way some of the light in Tony's eyes _died_ as he spoke, and Bruce has only barely held back from transforming.

Then the ship explodes.

The ship explodes, and Bruce is falling, clinging to himself by the tips of his fingernails, shredding his nail beds, and then his consciousness is being swallowed by a wave of green.

.

He wakes up in a hole, dusty and naked. He wishes this were more novel an experience than it actually is.

"You fell out of the sky," says a voice. Bruce groans. He'd been hoping he was alone.

"Did I hurt anybody?" It's always his first question.

"There's nobody around here to get hurt. You did scare the hell out of some pigeons though." Bruce feels a knot of tension leave his body.

"Lucky," he says. He hopes the helicarrier is alright. His memories of his time as the other guy are always patchy and fragmented, still filtering into place. He doesn't remember seeing Tony after the explosion. That could be good or bad.

"Or just good aim. You were awake when you fell." The man, some type of security guard, is still present. He seems remarkably unafraid.

"You saw?"

"The whole thing, through the ceiling. Big and green and buck ass nude. Here." He tosses Bruce a pair of pants. Gratefully, Bruce pulls them on. He's had to become at least somewhat comfortable with his own frequently naked state, but it's never something he enjoys. He's always been private, and it feels like the last bit of privacy he has is being stripped away every time he wakes up without a shred of clothing. "I didn't think those would fit you until you shrunk down to a regular size fella."

"Thank you," Bruce says, as emphatically as he can muster.

"Are you an alien?" the man asks, apropos of nothing.

"What?"

"From outer space. An alien?" he says again. Bruce closes his eyes and begs for patience.

"No."

"Well then, son," the man says glibly. "You've got a condition."

 _No shit, Sherlock_ , Bruce only just refrains from saying. _What the hell am I going to do now?_

He could leave. He could disappear; he's done it before. They don't need him. Fury said several times that he was only there to track the cube. He doesn't need to go back. He found the cube. Even if their results were destroyed, Tony could recreate them in half the time, now that they've done all the work.

He could go. But that would mean never seeing Tony again. Bruce has been only just restraining the hope that he felt as a child, thinking of his abstract soulmate, in the past years. Meeting Tony broke the dam that was holding that hope back. Tony was… nothing like Bruce was expecting. He was larger than life, bold and arrogant and razor sharp. But Bruce thinks about the way Tony looked when he saw the marks on Bruce's hands, and thinks that Tony Stark is also far more broken than anyone knows.

Bruce knows a little bit about broken people.

He wonders if it's crazy to even consider. But then he thinks about Loki and mind control and aliens invading New York, and he figures the whole world's gone crazy anyway.

He borrows the man's bike, and turns it toward Stark Tower.

.

Agent is gone. Coulson. _Phil_. Fuck, Tony hadn't even liked him that much. (This is a lie. Tony knows this is a lie, but he tells it to himself anyway, because if he admits to being fond of the man, this all hurts so much worse.) Coulson is gone and Bruce is missing and Fury only knows how many other agents are dead and _Bruce is missing._ The world will burn. Loki will _pay_.

So Tony snaps at Steve until he realizes exactly where Loki is headed.

 _That son of a bitch_.

.

"Please, tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity," Loki says.

"Actually, I'm planning to threaten you." Tony affects the same cavalier tone as the demigod. Alien. Person. Humanoid.

"You should've left your armor on for that."

Tony shrugs, moving toward the bar. "Yeah, it's seen a bit of mileage. Would you like a drink?" He gestures to the bar, pulling out glasses.

"Stalling me won't change anything."

"No, no, no! Threatening. No drink? You sure? I'm having one." Tony's mouth is moving fast but his brain is moving faster, as usual, calculating sight angles and hoping like hell that the Mark VII will deploy properly, assuming he even gets the chance. He doesn't want to die here. Not before he gets a chance to even properly talk to Bruce.

"The Chitauri are coming. Nothing will change that. What have I to fear?" Loki sounds utterly unconcerned. That's good. That's how Tony wants him to feel.

"The Avengers," he says briskly. "That's what we call ourselves. Sort of like a team, "Earth's Mightiest Heroes" type thing."

Loki looks unimpressed. "Yes, I've met them."

Tony grins. "Yeah, takes us a while to get any traction, I'll give you that one. But, let's do a head count here. Your brother, the demigod. A super soldier, a living legend who _kind_ of lives up to the legend. A man with _breathtaking_ anger management issues." Tony barely stops his voice from going incriminatingly warm when he speaks of Bruce. Barely. "A couple of master assassins," he continues. "And you, big fella, you've managed to piss off every single one of them."

"That was the plan."

"Not a great plan. When they come, and they will, they'll come for _you_." He pulls on the bracelets that control the Mark VII, keeping his hands behind the bar.

"I have an army."

"We have a hulk," Tony counters, and this time his voice does go a bit warm. Hopefully not enough to be noticeable. He moves toward Loki slowly, without menace in his posture.

"I thought the beast had wandered off."

Tony's voice hardens and goes cold at the flippant insult. "You're missing the point! There's _no throne_. There is no version of this where you come out on top. _Maybe_ your army comes and _maybe_ it's too much for us, but it's all on you. Because if we can't protect the Earth, you can be damned well sure we'll avenge it."

And then Tony takes a gamble. He's _pretty_ sure that Loki's fancy scepter won't work through the arc reactor. If he's wrong, they're all screwed. Then again, they might well be screwed regardless.

He's not wrong.

Loki throws him out a window anyway. To be fair, Tony was expecting this. JARVIS deploys the Mark VII just in time to stop Tony from becoming a splatter on the pavement.

And suddenly Chitauri are flooding from a portal in the sky.

.

Bruce arrives in the middle of Manhattan to find flying alien whales and weird skeletal creatures on flying bikes everywhere.

"So. This all seems… horrible," he says dryly.

"I've seen worse," says Widow, and ouch, that stings.

"Sorry."

"No. We could use a little worse." Somehow that stings more, but he shrugs it off in time to here Cap speak through coms.

"Stark? We got him."

"Banner?" a tiny imitation of Tony's voice through the coms around him says.

"Just like you said," Cap confirms, and a shot of warmth goes through Bruce.

Then Tony is there, suited up and soaring through the air, trailing a giant whale, and without thinking, Bruce moves toward him.

"Dr. Banner, now might be a really good time for you to get angry," Cap says. Bruce looks back at him and grins wryly.

"That's my secret, Cap. I'm always angry." And the world is growing smaller — Bruce is growing bigger, bigger, bigger until he's gone again.

.

Puny star man tells him to smash. Hulk grins. Hulk likes to smash.

Hulk smashes all the beasties. Hulk even smashes zappy hammer man. Hulk smashes puny god many times. The beasties try to smash Hulk, but Hulk is stronger.

Metal man is falling. Metal man is falling and puny Banner inside his head is screaming and Hulk likes metal man. Metal man was nice to them.

Hulk catches metal man. Metal man does not move. Hulk is _angry_. Hulk is always angry. This anger is different.

Hulk _roars_ his loudest roar. Hulk roars his angriest roar.

Metal man wakes up.

.

He was dead.

Tony was dead.

And now he's alive because the Hulk saved his life. What the fuck even is his life anymore?

.

It's after the shawarma, after Tony has loaned out pajamas to everyone he could and Natasha made a token protest about reporting back to SHIELD until she noticed that by the time she finished her sentence, Clint was already asleep on the couch in his gear, at which point she pointedly sat down on the floor next to him and stared at everyone, daring them to comment. Steve and Thor crashed on the adjacent couches without a word, and Bruce finally catches Tony alone for a moment. He's tired, and maybe his guard is down more than it usually is — this is something that always happens after he's transformed, like the other guy sucked all of the inhibitions out of him, leaving him exhausted and hazy and starving. Only one of these was solved by the shawarma.

"You knew I'd come back," he mumbles. "Cap told me you knew. _I_ didn't even know." He sinks to the floor on the fluffiest rug he's ever felt. Absently, he pats the space next to him. Tony hesitates, then sits.

"I believed in you."

"How did you guess?"

"Because you're a better man than I'll ever be." Tony looks down at his hands, twisting the strings of his hoodie, and shakes his head. "Because you know the world is worth saving. Because you know, despite the damage he does, that Hulk _will_ work to save it." Bruce shakes his head, but Tony doesn't let him interrupt. "He saved my life. _You_ saved my life."

"I didn't do anything."

"What, so you don't get credit for his successes but you'll take the blame for every one of his mistakes?" Something flares, bright and vivid, behind Tony's eyes.

"It's not that simple, Tony." Bruce is more awake now, because this topic will always do that.

"It _is_ that simple."

"You don't know that!" Bruce's voice is loud enough that Thor rumbles from his place on one of the couches. He lowers it, repeats himself. "You don't know that. You don't know what it's like."

Bruce never wanted a soulmate growing up, but having a monster living in his head has only made him want it less. He won't be his mother, but he refuses to be his father, either, and the fact that Tony doesn't seem to see _any risk_ to the other guy is honestly terrifying. Weirdly reassuring, but terrifying.

"Go to bed, Tony." His voice is low, but he isn't angry. He's too exhausted to be angry. The anger will be back; it always is, but for now, he just needs to sleep.

Tony looks at him carefully, then nods.

"You'll still be here when I wake up, right?"

It only halfway feels like a joke. "I'll still be _sleeping_ when you wake up." Bruce smiles, half-hearted and wry, hoping his bitterness doesn't show on his face. Tony looks at him for a beat too long, then rises slowly, wearily, like a man who's died once already today. Bruce watches him go.

.

Bruce sleeps for 20 hours straight, and wakes up ravenous. He follows his nose to the kitchen and finds a note that says,

 _B-_

 _We're upstairs. Figured we'd let you sleep. Plenty of pizza in the fridge. Eat whatever._

 _Tea in the cabinet by the microwave. You seem like a tea person._

 _-T_

He consumes an entire pizza cold before he manages to sit down, only to eat another whole pizza at the table. Hulk's caloric consumption is impressive. Apparently breaking the known laws of physics wreaks havoc on the metabolism.

Once he's finished, he explores the room. Tony has left a bag by the rug he slept on. It's full of clothes, approximately his size, toiletries, a pair of gloves, and a bright red sharpie. He knows without looking that his smile is sharp and brittle. Tony _knows_. It's been less than a day and Bruce feels more understood than he has since his mother died.

He doesn't know how to cope with this.

He finds a window, and he stares out at the ruins of Manhattan, and he thinks.

.

Tony finds Bruce standing in the shattered remains of his living room, staring out the intact window. Bruce doesn't turn around.

"You aren't staying, are you?" Tony asks. The line of Bruce's shoulders grows infinitesimally tighter.

"No."

Tony bites his lip, trying to figure out exactly what to say to that. "Can I ask why?"

"I can't," he says, and that's about the least helpful he could be.

"If this is about Ross…" Tony offers slowly. Bruce shakes his head.

"It's about me. And you."

"I'm not asking for anything else. I'm just asking you to stay." And goddammit, that came out sounding more broken than Tony intended. He whirls around and flops on the couch as nonchalantly as possible. "Nah, it's whatever, Jolly Green. You gotta do what you gotta do."

Bruce finally turns to face him, brown eyes flickering across Tony's face, examining his expression.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely carrying across the room. He shoulders the bag from the floor beside him and turns toward the elevators.

"Bruce!" Tony stops him before he gets there. He stops moving, but he doesn't turn around. "Is there… anything I can do for you? Anything you need? Vaccines, medicines, a kit?" He knows Bruce likely won't take anything for himself, but he might take supplies that benefit other people.

Bruce twists his neck and evaluates Tony over his shoulder. "That would be great," he says eventually.

Tony nods. "J? You can get that together for Bruce, right?"

"Of course, Sir," JARVIS replies. "Dr. Banner, if you would just let me know what you need, I will assemble that for you promptly. If you would like, you may make your way to the medical floor now."

Tony wants to protest. He wants to beg Bruce to stay, wants to ask what he's done wrong, wants to _fix this_. He'd thought… he'd felt comfortable with Bruce, and he's thought maybe Bruce had felt the same.

He watches his soulmate walk out of his life.

.

Bruce goes to South America. He's hoping things will go back to the way they were, because yeah, running constantly isn't pleasant, but it's better than a lot of other options. It's better than feeling obligated to stay with a man because of Marks carved across his skin. It's better than being found by Ross.

But something is creeping under his skin. Something that lodged itself there when Tony complemented Bruce first, then the Hulk. Something that grew when he found out Tony never asked if he was coming back to finish the fight — he just expected.

He thinks of Tony's face when he saw Bruce's wrists and… Tony is not a man made of anger. Bruce knew him for three days and he knows that. Tony is a man made of bravado and poise and a million masks. He thinks of the pain on Tony's face as the man let him walk away, his final words only to offer help.

Tony will hurt him. Tony is caustic and abrupt and sometimes callous. But somehow Bruce doesn't think Tony will hurt him intentionally.

He sighs and starts packing his things.

.

Tony has Black Sabbath on as loud as JARVIS will allow as he tinkers with the schematics for a new solar powered high-throughput water filtration system. He's immersed in redesigning the joints for the casing to be stronger when his music suddenly quiets to almost subvocal levels.

"Pep, c'mon, I'm working. This is gonna make SI plenty of money and save lots of lives; can't the signatures wait?"

An unexpected baritone replies, "Can't the signatures always wait?"

Tony whirls around so fast he almost falls off his swivel chair. "Bruce! You came back."

Bruce's smile is small but genuine. "Don't read too much into that. I figured maybe we both needed a friend."

"I can do that. I can definitely do that. Can I hug you? I really want to hug you right now."

Bruce's laugh is beautiful. "Sure."

.

Tony shows him the lab space that has been set up for him since less than a week after the battle, telling him to "let me know if I missed anything, you know biophysics is not my area," and waving his hands around as he does.

Then he shows Bruce the apartment he's set up for him, and it's an entire goddamn _floor._ "The others have to share a floor," Tony whispers conspiratorially. "Don't tell them, but you're my favorite." And then he grins at Bruce. "Of course, you're welcome on my floor anytime — top one in the elevator. JARVIS has you keyed in with the same access as Pepper, which basically means unless I initiate shutdown protocols you'll have access." They get back in the elevator, and at this point Bruce is just following Tony in shock. They go down a few floors, and they get off the elevator to find Steve sitting at a counter, eating a sandwich. It's shockingly mundane.

"Hey, Capsicle! Look who came for a visit."

Steve looks up at them. "Bruce. Welcome," his voice is warm, and _not terrified_ , which honestly is more than Bruce had expected from someone who's seen the Hulk and seems mostly sane, or at least saner than Tony.

"Shooty Bird and Creepy Spy Lady sort of live here too, but they kind of just pop in and out without warning," Tony says. "Thor went back to Asgard, obviously, but he's got the other apartment on Steve's floor if he ever needs a crash pad on Earth. This is the communal kitchen, just let JARVIS know if you want anything stocked and he'll handle it, and Steve's been talking about starting some team movie nights for bonding or some shit that'll be down here." Then they're back in the elevator and Tony is pushing the top button and then Bruce is walking out into Tony's private space and this seems weirdly more intimate than anything else. Tony seems to sense this.

"Look. I said you were welcome here. And you are. But I don't… I'm not gonna say I don't want anything from you, because I do, _so much_ , but that's me, that's my deal, not yours. I don't _expect_ anything from you, okay. I don't want anything that you don't want. If you wanna be distant friends who see each other twice a year, that's fine. If you want to be platonic lab partners, that's fine. Whatever you want. That's what I'm in for."

The raw honesty in his voice leaves Bruce speechless for too long, and Tony looks away, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"So, yeah, anyway. This is the living room. Like all of the TVs in this place, it's wired for Netflix, Hulu, HBO, whatever. Just ask J for whatever you want to watch and he'll find it for you. He does requests, too, although sometimes he'll sass you for them, so watch out there." Tony's voice trails off in volume as he walks into the kitchen and Bruce remains frozen in the living room, unsure of how to deal with any of this. He ends up fleeing to his own floor before Tony realizes he isn't following.

.

They are still the Avengers, and it turns out Bruce can't hide in his rooms forever, because when warning bells begin sounding, JARVIS informs him that his presence is requested on the roof. When he gets there, he finds Clint and Steve and Tony all suited up, and Clint informs him that Natasha is "out" and then they lift off as Steve is telling him that the plan is for Bruce to stay near the plane and hope like hell that they don't need him.

This sounds like an excellent plan to Bruce, only it doesn't work out that way, because it never works out the way Bruce wants. One of the assholes they're fighting sneaks away from the fighting and fucking _shoots Bruce with a goddamn bullet_ and suddenly he isn't Bruce anymore.

.

Hulk smashes the trees. Hulk smashes many trees, until Puny Banner tells him that Metal Man might need their help. Hulk smashes toward Metal Man. Puny humans shoot bang bangs at Metal Man. Hulk smashes them. Hulk grins. Puny humans scream. Hulk smashes until there are no more puny humans.

Hulk sits down. Hulk is tired. Hulk lets Puny Banner come back, because smashing is done.

.

Tony lands next to the seated Bruce. He always looks so goddamn small after he transforms back. His arms are wrapped around his chest, and he looks like a faint wind could knock him right over

He's pulling a small foldable shock blanket out of his suit when he gets a good look at Bruce's back.

It's the first time he's seen Bruce without a shirt on. Last time, Hulk had wandered off to turn back.

All of the Marks on Bruce's back are covered in scars. Very specific scars. Scars that mar each and every pronoun. _Fuck_.

He tosses the blanket at Bruce rather more abruptly than he means to, mutters something about doing another check, and flies off.

.

After the battle, Bruce realizes that he's been doing himself no favors by staying in his own rooms. He came back because he wanted to try being friends with Tony. So he heads to the labs.

In Tony's personal labs, there are pieces of the Iron Man suit scattered around like Tony was working on fixing it, but no sign of Tony himself.

And then Bruce remembers the sentient AI living in the walls.

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, Doctor Banner?"

"Where is Tony?"

After a slight delay, JARVIS says, "Sir appears to have left the building."

Bruce sighs, and then decides to spend some time on the communal floor. He still needs to consume more calories after his recent transformation.

.

It takes Bruce less than three hours to realize Tony is avoiding him. JARVIS' excuses become increasingly less believable, until it's, frankly, a little insulting.

And then Bruce remembers he has access to Tony's rooms. He hasn't used it, but… something's up. Tony went from demanding friendship to avoiding him, and Bruce needs to know why.

So he hits the button for Tony's floor. Only one elevator goes up that high, so he knows that Tony can't leave via another elevator.

Only, when he reaches the top floor, Tony isn't there.

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, Doctor Banner?"

"Tell Tony, would you, that his couch is very comfortable, and that I'm not leaving until he decides to actually talk to me. And also that this is not an excuse to hole up in his lab for fourteen hours without sleeping."

"Of course, Doctor Banner." If Bruce isn't mistaken, JARVIS sounds smug.

Bruce wonders exactly how long he's going to have to wait Tony out. He wouldn't put it past the man to try sleeping in his lab for days.

In the end, though, it's only about five hours later when Tony appears. He won't meet Bruce's eyes. Instead, he moves to the bar and pours himself a drink. He doesn't drink it. Instead, he just waits.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Bruce finally chooses as a way to break the silence.

"I guess I just… didn't expect it from you." Tony is gripping the side of the bar, staring down into his glass, and Bruce doesn't want fucking _obfuscation_ right now.

"Will you just _say what you're trying so say_?"

"I'm used to people being assholes about it. I'm famous, and that makes me a target for bullshit as much as it makes me a target for praise. But honestly, Bruce, I didn't expect you of all people to be a homophobic asshole."

For a moment, Bruce is stunned, gaping. " _What_?" he finally manages, tone incredulous and voice slightly raised.

Tony whirls around and glares. Clearly this is not the reaction he wanted. "Don't fucking try to deny it. I _saw them_ ," he hisses, his voice low and coated in anger to mask the hurt in his eyes. "I fucking _saw your marks._ Maybe I'm not as smart as you, but I'm not so _stupid_ so as not to notice that everything scarred over was a pronoun." Tony spins on his heel and stalks across the living room, but he doesn't get far before he turns back. "So, what? You hate yourself for having a soulmate who's a man? You were _ashamed of me_? God, no wonder you were so determined to hate me. _Why did you even come back?_ " He spits out the last sentence like it's an accusation, and Bruce is angry. Angry that Tony has jumped to conclusions, angry that Tony could think this of him. Angry that he didn't expect this. Angry that he didn't head this off by just _talking_ to his damn soulmate.

Angry enough that he seriously considers walking away. He doesn't owe Tony an explanation; he doesn't owe Tony anything. It's his life, and his body, and his scars. Soulmate or no.

But.

He thinks of the way Tony had plotted out lab space for a man he had no idea would return. He thinks of the way Tony opened up his home to a whole team of super strangers just because he had the space. He thinks of the way Tony does these things, the way he minimizes them, as though they mean nothing, as though they are an afterthought. As though he didn't spend weeks planning in an attempt to get everything just right.

He thinks of the way Tony had opened his home and his life up to Bruce and told him that no matter what Tony wanted, he didn't expect anything from Bruce. He thinks of the way Tony kept that promise.

Tony is carelessly thoughtful and deceptively kind behind the facade of asshole that he puts up.

Bruce doesn't believe in soulmates, but he does kind of believe in Tony Stark.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and says softly, "It wasn't me."

Tony doesn't quite deflate, but the rage tempers a little. "What?"

"The scars. I mean." Bruce sighs, and then decides that if he's in, he might as well be all in. He unbuttons his dress shirt and slides it off his shoulders. He lays it across the top of the couch. Deliberately not looking at Tony, he pulls his undershirt off over his head.

He traces his fingers over the mess of scar tissue on his stomach.

"This was me." He touches the marred out pronouns underneath that mess, and then the scars in the middle of all of his other marks. "These weren't me."

He looks up, finally. Grief stares back at him. Tony looks shattered. He swallows, opens his mouth to speak, and then closes it again. Bruce spares him the need to ask.

"My father wasn't happy about much, but I've rarely seen him as angry as he was the day he first saw this." Bruce gestures to the words arcing across his right pectoral. _"How have you never heard of ***? *** a rich asshole carried by daddy's money, but ** might also be one of the few who could rival you in brains, Banner."_ The scars are decades old, but deep. Bruce shivers, feeling suddenly exposed, and pulls his undershirt back on. In concession, he leaves the dress shirt on the couch.

"I was never ashamed of you," he says finally. "I was _terrified_." Bruce bites his lip, hesitates slightly, then adds, "My mother and father were soulmates. He abused her, and then he killed her in front of me. I didn't… I _couldn't_ hope for anything different."

A beat of silence, and then, " _Jesus_ , Bruce. That's… I would never."

Bruce is grateful that it isn't an apology. "I know that. Now."

"God," Tony says, and it looks like he's still trying to digest. "How are you real?"

And that is… not what Bruce was expecting him to say. "What?"

Tony just shakes his head. "Life has fucked you over too many times to count. And you still come up fighting, Jesus, you're like Muhammed Ali but even more indomitable; _how are you real?_ Life throws this kind of shit at you and you decide to go doctor the poor and you fucking come back here, even though you've got next to no reason to."

Bruce is shaking his head before Tony has finished, looking down at his hands and fidgeting with his cuffs. "You make it sound like those have been selfless decisions but they haven't. I found a way to stay alive and on the move and valuable enough not to be a target just for being foreign. And I didnt come back here for you. I came back for me, too." He pauses, and then says,"I came back because you believed in me. Nobody ever does that. You saw me first, and you believed in me."

"Of course I did. Within five minutes of meeting you I knew you were a better man than I'll ever be. The Marks may be the reason for my fascination, but the reasons I like you? Those are all you. You're clever and hilarious, but also kind and genuine and brave."

And Bruce is taking a step forward and his hand is on Tony's cheek, beard rough under his fingertips and he's guiding Tony's face down the inch that divides them and then they're kissing, and it's sparks and fireworks and every goddamn cliche Bruce never thought he'd get to have.

And then they're separating and both of them are smiling faintly.

"You are not what people think," Bruce murmurs.

"Oh, really? Then what am I?" It's almost a purr.

Bruce thinks for a second, and then says, "Layered."

Tony keeps his hands on Bruce's hips but pulls back far enough to get a good look at his face. "Seriously? I give you kind and genuine and clever and I get _layered?_ "

He's not even done speaking before Bruce is laughing so hard his head falls back.

"Your… face," he gets out in between chuckles.

Tony pouts, but it fades into a smile, and then he kisses Bruce again.

.

"You're Pepper Potts, right? I'm going to talk to you and I need you not to say anything until I'm done, because this is about soulmarks and the first words you say to me about someone. Do you understand?"

Pepper nods, and Bruce smiles.

"Thanks. Now, if I asked you to tell me about Tony Stark, would it be positive?"

He sees the shock in Pepper's eyes as she digests the implications. He sees her look him up and down, taking him in this time with a depth that she didn't bother with her first glance.

Eventually, she smiles. She nods.

"Perfect. Go ahead."

"Tony Stark is a genius, an idiot, and the best man I've ever known. He's going to change the world for the better in ways we can't even imagine yet. I'm proud to know him."

Bruce smiles as his right biceps itches in a very familiar way. He pulls up his sleeves to find Pepper's words sprawled there, elegant and beautiful.

"Thank you," he says.

"I think we should do dinner," Pepper replies.

Bruce grins wryly. "I thought you might say that."

.

Bruce's fears don't disappear. He's going to have trust issues for the rest of his life; Tony alone can't change that.

But maybe he can learn to live in spite of that fear.


End file.
